


dear diary

by imtalkingtoyou



Category: Original Work
Genre: trigger warnings in notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29223960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imtalkingtoyou/pseuds/imtalkingtoyou
Summary: scattered thoughts of a lonely depressed lesbian
Comments: 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warning - suicidal thoughts (please read at your own risk)

5/4/2020

-

I would scratch my skin so hard it left marks for days. Red, ugly and raw. I would cover them with the sleeves of my hoodies and tug my hoods over my head.

I would run the blade over my wrist and imagine how it would feel like if I pushed a little harder. If I wasn’t so much of a pussy. If I could just do one thing right. I would not look at the reflection staring back at me in the mirror for days because I couldn’t believe someone this unworthy, ungrateful, horrendous existed.

I would wake up and pull the pillow over my face and imagine how it would feel if I had the guts to hold it there longer.

I would wonder how it would feel if I took a knife and cut off all the parts of me I didn’t like.

I would pull at my hair and skin and wonder if I pulled it hard enough it would peel away and give way for beauty.

I would grow my nails and press them into my palms, watch the indentations and them deepen them.

I would look at my hands and wonder who would ever want to hold them.

I would stare at the ceiling and hope that someone, somewhere would hear it when I silently cried until I was exhausted.

I would have nothing to look forward to any morning.

I would stare at blankness for hours and then hit myself over and over for wasting time others would kill for.

I would wonder how it would feel to die.

I would wonder what would have happened if I wasn’t so scared of it.

I would wonder if one day maybe I could tell someone this and not feel the words imprinted in the very skeleton of my being.

I would wonder how it feel to not feel the empty hollow hole in my stomach every time someone turned their attention away. Every time I was left alone.

I would wonder how it would feel to just be content with loneliness. Not so dependent on things you can never have.

I still wonder why I can’t fix myself. I wonder why I’m so hollow when I’m alone. I wonder what I’m waiting for to feel.

I just always feel everything and nothing and sometimes the light catches on the edge of the blade and I wonder how my blood spills.


	2. 17/1/2021

17/1/2021

-

A moment before she did it, she leaned back. Faced the sky with her open skin and let her hands float in the air. She closed her eyes and thought about the stars kissing her skin.

She thought about all the promises. She thought about the laughs she would never laugh. The glances she would never be there to deliver. She thought about the order of her favorite fries that wouldn’t get eaten, and the conversations she wouldn’t be there for. She thought about the books she would never see published and the future of television she would not be there to experience. She thought about the songs she would never be there to hear. She thought about the great love she used to think was promised to everyone. The weight she would be taking off the shoulder of said individual. She thought about everything she yearned and longed for. Everything she would never know. Every touch she would never feel. Every story that lived in her that she would never tell.

It crossed her mind that it was a good thing the world would not suffer through her words and voice. She thought about the favor she was doing everyone. Those fries will go to someone more worthy. Those conversations would take part with people who mattered. That book will be read by someone with more intellectual capability than her. The great love would find another, and they will live happier than she could ever offer.

She took all the smiles and laughter in her future, clutched it in her fist and sent it out to the world. Some other person, who needed hope and laughter would catch it and swallow it whole. They would take those smiles and make something great out of them.

She opened her eyes to the stars kissing her cheeks and smiled at them one last time. Then she let her hands free and fell, trusting the stars to catch her.

\- 


	3. 6/2/2021

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw /// loss

6/2/2021

On really bad days - or really good days, though they’re few and far between - I would stare up at the ceiling, in the dark, midnight lighting through the windows and just talk. It’s so hard to speak in light, but with darkness comes a sort of confidentiality. I didn’t need someone to tell me who im talking to. I just knew she was there. It was a gut response kind of thing. No one needs to tell you you’re missing a piece. You just feel the absence of it.

One of the two times mother talked about her she spoke in fragments. Maybe I just remember it like that because that’s only how much I heard. I don't blame her. It's always going to be painful. But being in the dark comes with its own loss.

My hands clenched and the bricks on the sidewalk got so blurry. It was just this whole-encompassing sadness that comes with clarity. Nails dug into my palm so hard I almost broke skin. I’ve never had my heart broken before but that must be the closest thing to it I’ve felt.

It’s so hard to miss someone when you’ve never met them. When you don’t know what exactly you’re missing, just that it’s not there. It’s never knowing the shape of her nose, or the way she would have smiled, or missing all the ways she would have been there but isn’t.

It’s looking at your room and seeing the empty space where another bed could go. It’s counting members and the ghost of another. It’s having good news and suddenly stopping dead in your tracks because you can’t think of a soul you want to tell before her. It’s not being able to sleep and talking to the shadows because that’s the only way you can reach out. It’s screaming in frustration because you know it’s never going to go away. That shade of loneliness.

There’s this innate sense of half here half not that comes with this. Some days it’s so bad I can’t even cry because who am I shedding tears for? It’s seeing others have that and turning around so you don’t have to stare at them in envy.

So I talk to the dark after midnight because that’s the only way. I make jokes to the walls and I laugh bitterly when no one else joins me.

-


End file.
